She interviewed me
With an illness in my heart
She was there to ask her questions
But didn’t know how quite to start
How do you ask a person
Who can count their time that’s left
Which moments they regret in life
And which ones they liked the best,
She didn’t know quite how to ask me
If I could give her some advice
When she was given her whole life to live
And I only got a slice.
She was scared that I would judge her
For wasting minutes of my time.
So she asked me just one question
As she heard my old clock chime
She asked me what it felt like
Knowing that so soon I would die
And as I told her my short answer
She looked me straight into the eye.
” I might know my time is ending
But pity for you is all I have got
Since I wake knowing that I m dying
But you wake pretending that you are not.”